Katharine and I were first introduced to the horror of low cut jeans a couple of years ago while sitting in a West End Starbucks. They were worn by a early 20s blonde heading towards grungy. She didn’t seem the type to show off her breast cleavage, but was happy to expose her buttocks in full. That wouldn’t have been so bad, but she had the tattiest pink thong on. We agreed that we’d never wear low cut jeans.
But there’s no turning back the tide of fashion. Having lost several inches from my waist, I need to replace all my jeans (my mother urged caution on this saying, ‘you’ll probably put it all back on’) and returned from a shopping trip in Cardiff this Easter with two ever so reasonably priced pairs from H&M. Needless to say, I now need to ensure my underpants are suitable for public display.